


The Tea Set

by reapersbarge



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Kaz goes to therapy, Therapy, written for the Six of Crows zine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25608451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reapersbarge/pseuds/reapersbarge
Summary: Kaz Brekker seeks out Ketterdam therapist Sophie de Roos. In between boring merchers whining about their life problems, Sophie is given the opportunity to untangle the mind of Dirtyhands.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 92





	The Tea Set

In a well-kept, towering brick building in the University District was a woman very few people from the Barrel knew of. Sophie de Roos was a therapist who spent most of her days listening to merchers describe how their mothers ruined their lives. Or, in the case of her current client, whine about how the Zemeni coffee their assistant purchased was “too strong”.

“She didn’t even _ask_ me before she ordered it,” said the portly merchant from her couch. “It costs far too much and none of my clients will like it.”

Sophie idly marked on her notes to pick up dinner from the Zemeni restaurant she preferred on her way home from work. “Have you tried adding cream or sugar?” 

“Absolutely not!” His scandalized tone matched the redness in his face. “Ghezen advocates restraint in all things!”

She was saved from having to respond by the gentle tap of her assistant at the door. “Dr. de Roos? Your next appointment is here.” 

The tedious mercher picked up his hat and coat before leaving out of the discreet side exit from her office. It ensured that her clients never saw one another in the lobby. The last thing she needed was the headache of two feuding shipping merchants dragging her into their squabble outside of office hours. 

Anya slipped in with a hesitant look on her young face. “Your next client is...interesting.” 

“How so?” It took quite a lot for her assistant to remark on Sophie’s clients. The last one she could recall had been a visiting Shu nobleman who had been extremely good-looking. Something told her this wasn’t going to be the case here.

“He’s from the Barrel,” replied Anya.

Sophie sighed. “You can’t judge where someone’s from by–”

“It’s Kaz Brekker.”

In the ten years since the upheaval at the Church of Barter, Ketterdam had enjoyed a sense of calm. Violence in the city had dropped to an all time low. Crime didn’t vanish, of course, but it was generally limited to the seedier areas of town. Most people attributed this change to the Merchant Council cracking down on corruption and gangs. Sophie knew better. She had listened to quite a few of those Councillors lament from her couch that Dirtyhands had seized the Council by the throat. Some had resigned rather than work for him, though most were never heard from again. They had either gone into hiding or were (as rumors suggested) at the bottom of the sea. 

Sophie never anticipated Kaz Brekker arriving at her door, but the world was funny like that.

“Send him in.” 

\---

_Notes from SdR personal records_

_Client name: Kaz Brekker_

_Occupation: Crime boss? Entrepreneur?_

_Age: 27_

_Reason for first visit: unknown_

_Initial thoughts: Kaz Brekker appears well put-together. His suit is tailored to fit, in dark, sedate colors. He does not seem overly distressed; unnerved, perhaps, but not in dire need of treatment._

_\---_

Kaz Brekker shifted for the third time since the session began. Apart from the initial greetings and a request to prop up his bad leg on an ottoman, neither had spoken. Sophie did her best to maintain a look of patience and calm, despite her bubbling curiosity. What she knew of him did not lend itself to the idea of a man who would willingly sit down in her office and discuss his private battles. The denizens of the Barrel, especially the bosses, did not often make their way to her door. 

Sophie allowed the quiet. It was important that he initiated the discussion first. She had spent many first sessions in a stilted silence, but those clients often ended up being the ones who needed her the most. 

After twenty minutes had passed, Brekker finally spoke. “You’re good.”

Sophie lifted an eyebrow at him. “Good how?” 

“You haven’t pushed,” said Brekker. “Most people can’t stand silence and tend to try to break it.”

“Being a good listener sometimes involves quiet,” replied Sophie. That got her a quirk of the lips.

“They teach you that in therapy school?” His cane continued its tapping.

“I got a special medal and everything.” Sophie cleared her throat. “Would you like to discuss what’s brought you here today?” 

The quiet returned and she counted off the thunks of the cane against her floor. _104, 105, 106…_

“I’d like to take off the gloves.” 

The admission startled Sophie out of her counting. She glanced up to see Brekker staring at the leather gloves that gave him his name. Dirtyhands. The stories had filtered into her office over the years. _He’s a demon, a monster. He once killed a man for spilling a drink on him._ The man sitting on Sophie’s sofa didn’t look like a villain; Brekker seemed weary and just a bit lost. 

Their session ended before Sophie could pry more out of him, but as Brekker swept out of her office, she wondered just how much time she was going to dedicate to untangling him.

\---

In the three days after Sophie de Roos met Kaz Brekker, she started noticing some odd occurrences. The baker always waved her to the counter, even though there was a full line. When Ketterdam finally deigned to grace them with snow, the steps of her building were clear. Even her daily commute went without the usual thugs that loitered the street. By the fourth day, Sophie was sure Brekker had some hand in this.

In her haste to get out of the cold on her way to work, Sophie cut between two slanting buildings. A man cut off her path and she saw the glint of a pistol in his hand. He waved the gun and gave a sharp demand for her briefcase. Her hands pulled the case closer instinctively. A second man grabbed the first by his collar and hauled him away. Sophie sat down in shock, listening to the second man berate the first about rules and protection as they left her on the alley floor.

\---

Sophie lost count of how many sessions they spent discussing nothing more intense than the Kooperom’s increased prices and the rumors of Ravkan interference in local elections. In the five months since their first meeting, Brekker’s gloves were never addressed again. She poked at him occasionally, but was always met with a stony expression and his swift exit. After the first few times, she learned not to prod. It was like when Sophie’s father took her fishing on his boat for the first time. As a four year-old, she had huffed and puffed about how boring waiting was. As an adult, she was content to sit and wait. Patience was necessary when trying to get anything; even if that something was attempting to get a crime lord to open up to her. 

So after months of small talk and the infrequent exchange of books, Sophie was surprised when Brekker stalked into her office (unannounced and without an appointment) and glared at her current client.

“Out.” He pointed one gloved hand to the door. “Now.”

Fury radiated off of him in waves. Mister Janssen, a nervous man whose tendency to buy anything pushy shopkeepers handed to him had gotten him in _quite_ a lot of debt, tossed his teacup onto the table before vacating both his seat and the room. Brekker threw himself into the couch cushions. The sight of him tight with rage on her couch broke Sophie out of her shock.

“Mister Brekker! That was completely uncalled–”

“You should really just call me by my first name, you know,” he interrupted. “I’ve seen you once a week for nearly half a year.” 

Sophie pushed her dark hair out of her face and stood. “Be that as it may, _Kaz_ , you have no appointment and I was in the middle of a session with _someone who did_.” 

“I’ll cover your time for both sessions,” Brekker replied, pulling out a billfold from him coat. 

“You cannot just throw money around and get your way.” She was done with this conversation and his antics. “Get out of my office, Mister Brekker.” 

He didn’t move or look at her. His fingers fiddled with a tassel on the edge of a throw pillow. 

“A letter came to me today from Ravka.”

Sophie couldn’t pinpoint exactly what made her sit back down. Brekker’s voice was steady, calm, neutral. The words themselves weren’t anything out of the ordinary from regular conversation. But it was like a shutter on a boarded up house had creaked open. Sophie looked him over, a man no older than herself yet weary with the world and harder because of it, and folded her hands in her lap.

“From who?” she asked. 

“A...friend of mine in Os Alta,” Brekker replied. “Said there had been some activity near their border with Fjerda along the coast and he wanted to make sure I was told immediately.” 

“Activity?” Sophie repeated. 

Kaz gripped the edge of the pillow so hard, she was worried it would tear. “Ships being bombed.” 

One of the only instances of him opening up to her flashed in Sophie’s mind.

_“Tell me about your friends, Mister Brekker.”_

_“I don’t have any friends.”_

_“Everyone has someone, Mister Brekker. Few of us are truly alone in this world.”_

_“She’s not here. But she counts, I think. She’s a ship captain.”_

A sudden cold wash of realization swept over Sophie. “Was your friend’s ship one of them?”

His face contorted into a horrific mask of grief and rage. Kaz pulled his hands up to yank at his hair.

“I don’t know,” he gritted out. “I have no way to contact her, but she was near Reb Harbor in her last letter. A month ago.” 

“Novyi Zem is across the True Sea from Fjerda and Ravka.”

Brekker stood up and tossed the pillow back onto the cushions. In the cluttered office, he paced back and forth between the window and the wall. A thread of worry began to worm its way into Sophie’s chest.

“Talk to me, Kaz,” she said. “Walk me through what’s going on in your head.” 

He gave a stark huff of laughter. “I don’t know. Inej was supposed to come home at the end of the month. Isa is having her birthday party. She would be upset if Inej wasn’t there.” 

“Isa?” asked Sophie. That was a name that hadn’t come up before.

“Jesper and Wylan’s youngest. They adopted her two years ago.” Kaz put both hands on the back of the sofa and let his head fall forward. “She’s adorable and a menace. Last week, Jesper had to keep her from falling into the harbor looking for Sildroher. She always runs up to me with her arms up when I visit, and she stomps her foot when I don’t pick her up.”

Sophie decided to roll with the subject change as he seemed calmer now. “Why don’t you?”

“I nearly dropped her when she was first brought home,” he replied. “I haven’t tried since.”

Kaz dropped back onto the sofa and stared at the floor. This was as unshielded as Sophie had ever seen him. His hands fidgeted with the edge of his coat and the head of his cane. The line of his jaw tightened, as if trying to piece together some broken mask. Everything about him gave off an aura of _tread carefully_. 

“Do you want to?” she asked.

Sophie was met with silence. One step forward, two steps back. _Time to try something else_ , she thought.

“Tell me more about Inej,” she said, bringing the conversation back to what had worked him up so much in the first place.

The burning rage returned to his eyes. _No, not rage. Fear._

“She’s hunting down slavers in the True Sea,” said Kaz after a moment. “She’s glorious with a blade and one of the most intelligent people I know. Her crew calls her ‘Captain’ or ‘Wraith’ on land or in front of enemies, but prefer to use her first name as a sign of respect. She likes to sit in the sun and watch the clouds go by. She prefers tea, not coffee and I hate that she’s been gone this long and the letters aren’t enough and–”

He stood up and kicked at the coffee table. The tea set on top tilted and shattered. Fine porcelain tinkled to the floor like the chiming of bells. It wasn’t the first time something had been broken in Sophie’s office and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last. 

“You’re buying me a new tea set,” she said lightly. “I’ll put it on your bill.” 

The tension in the room evaporated. Brekker looked at her with almost a smile and regained his seat. “Where were we?”

“Inej,” prompted Sophie. 

“I think I’ve talked about her enough today.”

She shook her head. “I disagree. You’re obviously carrying a lot in regards to her. This new situation isn’t helping any.”

“I want her back,” said Kaz. He shifted his bad leg onto the ottoman. “The Barrel isn’t safe, but at least she’s not at risk of getting blown up on the Stave.”

“Wasn’t there an explosion there some years ago?” asked Sophie. “Near Goedmedbridge?”

That got her an actual smile, full of teeth. “I did hear about that.”

Sophie briefly toyed with the idea of pushing at that, unsure of why her comment brought out the shark in him. _Honestly_ , she thought, _I could have written my dissertation on pulling apart the edges on him._

“There’s nothing you can do right now about Inej that I’m sure you’re not already doing,” she said. Everything she had learned about him in the last few months spoke to a need to take care of his people. Inej was obviously on that very short list. “Tell me more about the situation with Isa. Do you want to pick her up?”

Brekker’s smile faded a bit. His mask wasn’t completely back and Sophie could see the gears turning in his head as he thought over her words. One side of the battle seemed to win after a while. He gave her a slow nod. 

“What exactly is keeping you from picking her up?”

Kaz’s dark gaze cut across the small room to stare into Sophie. He didn’t trust her, not fully. She expected he never would. Keeping her face calm, she looked back at him. Then, Kaz opened his mouth and told her his story. 

In all Sophie’s years of school, they told her that she would hear the worst of what could be done to a person. Her clients would tell her of abuse, loss, and unspeakable grief. The professors hammered in that they must remain neutral, calm, and collected. Never before had Sophie felt like she would lose that capability. It was a fight to keep the horror from her face. 

For the rest of the session, they worked through a plan to ward off the nausea he experienced from touch. Sophie warned him it wouldn’t be instantaneous; as with everything in therapy, it would be a process. Breathing techniques could do a lot to keep a person calm, but they wouldn’t fix everything.

When Kaz left, she allowed herself to feel hope for him. Ghezen knew he deserved it.

\---

Kaz Brekker didn’t come back the next week. Sophie told herself he was fine. He was a client, not a friend. She couldn’t fret over him like a mother hen. He was a grown man running a criminal empire. It wouldn’t do to go running into the Barrel demanding why he hadn’t shown up for therapy. 

When a month passed without his name in her appointment book, Sophie allowed herself to worry.

She mailed off a book he had lent her some weeks prior with a small note:

_You still owe me a new tea set._

_–SdR_

The next morning, Sophie walked into her office to find a pristine Shu tea set sitting on her desk. Tucked into the teapot was a pair of black leather gloves. 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Six of Crows zine organized by kayadoodles on Instagram! Though the zine is no longer for sale, I immensely enjoyed writing this piece and seeing my work in print.


End file.
